The Return Of The Hound
by JayLea
Summary: A sequel to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 'The Hound Of The Baskervilles'. Pleaz R/R!
1. A Day At The Office

The Return Of The Hound  
  
Dear Reader,  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own "The Hound of the Baskervilles". Sir Arthur Conan Doyle does. This counts for the whole story. Thanx!  
  
Chapter One  
  
A Day At The Office  
  
Jessica Helmstar, 27, of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, was the descendant of the ever-famous private investigator, Sherlock Holmes. She herself was a P.I., and the few who knew her lineage said she was a chip off the old block. They were wrong. Jessica Helmstar was a whole new block, and she was about to prove it in her next case.  
  
Jessica was 5'10", had straight jet black hair that brushed her shoulders, and had been hired no less than 47 times by the official police station to solve various crimes, which she did, including everything from arson to stalking, and many, many more.  
  
Jessica, like Holmes, had her own faithful sidekick, Christina Walt, a 27-year-old blonde with a way too big sense of humor. Christi was a lot like Watson in many ways. She was ignorant of the very small, yet crucial, clues that Jessica managed to pick up. She was also just as loyal to Jessica as Watson was to Holmes, and just as willing to do as she was told.  
  
Today, Jessica was hired, once again, by the state police to solve a serial killer case. She was wearing her usual trench coat, and driving to the police station in her black 4-wheel drive, with Christi in the front passenger's seat.  
  
"What do you think it's all about this time, Jesse?" Jessica scowled. She hated being called "Jesse". It was so juvenile.  
  
"Murder," she replied, resisting the urge to smack Christi in the back of the head for her calling her "Jesse" for the umpteenth time. They pulled into the station.  
  
Inside, they saw a pot-bellied, red-faced officer, with several files in his hand, bragging to a few others, who looked bored but mildly impressed.  
  
"Yup," the fat officer was saying loudly. "I get the case, and no stinking P.I. is gonna stop me!"  
  
"Actually," Jessica butted in, "A bit more well groomed P.I. is going to stop you, Officer Kornmel. Now, if you don't mind, give me my files, and I'll be off."  
  
The officers looked up in surprise, and Officer Kornmel's red face grew redder.  
  
"What makes you think these are your files, Helmstar?" he snarled.  
  
"Because those are files M173, and my memo specifically said that I'd be the one to work this case. not you." Jessica resisted the insane urge to call him "Officer Doughnut".  
  
His face screwed up and his lip curled, making him look like a scrambled tomato. The other officers seemed rather amused. "Observant little bugger, aren't you?"  
  
"Observant, yes, bugger, no. That's your position. And my, my, my. drinking on duty, Officer?" She picked up an empty beer bottle from the trashcan. "That's against the rules. I suppose Commander Shazé will suspend you. again. when she hears about this."  
  
You could almost see the smoke coming out of Officer Kornmel's ears. Meanwhile, the officers he had previously been falsely bragging to were snickering behind their hands.  
  
"Listen here, you little. you little girl!" The listening officers laughed out loud at his lame comeback. Several had to shove their fists in their mouths to stifle their laughter, and poor Christi seemed to be in pain!  
  
Jessica raised an elegant eyebrow. "'Little girl?' Is that. oh my. it couldn't possibly be. professional envy that I just heard?" she looked shocked, and continued solemnly, "Oh my, Officer Kornmel, it doesn't look as though private is a low enough rank for you. Maybe Commander Shazé will know what to do about that." She snatched file M173 out of his chubby hand, gave him an annoyingly pleasant smile, and went off to one of the P.I. offices the department provided, the sound of laughter following them. She sat down in the swivel chair, looking smug.  
  
"You know, Christi, there's no start to a day like insulting a fat official."  
  
Christi sniggered. "You can say that again."  
  
"Perhaps not. Let's get up to date on these files."  
  
And so they did. The case turned out to be that some huge hound was tearing its victims to shreds, all except an old man, Hugo Trempson, an old man who instead got his limbs chopped off. The officials suspected human involvement because the victims' bodies were put in grotesque positions, with limbs hacked off to apparently make the shapes to the murderer's liking. Charming.  
  
One thing in common was that all nine victims were distantly related to one another, they were all murdered in the park, and any victims with their face intact seemed frightened beyond belief. Footprints, but unfortunately, not fur samples, were found of a gigantic hound, but they could not be traced.  
  
The authorities had two prime suspects: The daughter of Hugo, Barbara Trempson-Carstatch, a mother of three who ran an animal shelter. Her motive to murder her father could have been the inheritance. She had alibis for all the other murders, though, but could have possibly used the pattern to cover up the murder. She refused to give an alibi for the night of her father's murder.  
  
The other was a man Roberto Conston, who worked as an assistant veterinarian. His motive was unknown, he had alibis for all the murders, but his alibis didn't seem to add up. One night he was at a club, supposedly in a DJ contest that the club seemed to never have had, and the next he was at an opera, and the seat that he had insisted he had sat in was, according to witnesses, empty. And when he was supposed to be asked to further clarify his statements, he didn't show up.  
  
Whoever the criminal was, they were both giving the police a hell of a time. And Jessica was ready to return the favor.  
  
*~*  
  
A/N: Well?!?!?! You like it? You hate it? You wanna boil me in hot oil? Okay, let's not get EXTREME. Just R/R. THANX! 


	2. Whoa Nilly

Chapter Two  
  
Whoa Nilly  
  
The next day, Jessica picked up Christi and headed to Mrs. Trempson- Carstatch's house. Their research revealed that she had the next three days off, and Mr. Conston wasn't on his shift for four hours.  
  
They pulled into the gravel driveway of Mrs. Trempson-Carstatch's house. It was light blue, the colors were homely enough, but there was a foreboding air about the place. Perhaps it was the dead ivy hanging on the house, or the ill kept, weed filled garden, or the overgrown lawn, but this did not seem to be a happy place to visit, let alone live.  
  
"Hire a gardener, woman," Christi muttered, eyeing the foot high lawn. A half smile pulled on Jessica's lips. She had been worried that her friend had changed when she hadn't spoken all throughout the ride. That sounded more like her.  
  
They went up to the door and Jessica rang the doorbell.  
  
"Don't get it!" a voice called. Apparently the order went unheeded, since a moment later a teenage girl, clothed in black with a nose piercing and some chains on incredibly baggy pants, opened the door, looking incredibly bored.  
  
"Yeah, what d'ya want?" she blew a bubble in her gum.  
  
"To speak to your mother, if she's not busy," Jessica replied.  
  
The teen raised an eyebrow. "More officials?"  
  
"We're not officials. We're P.I.'s, but we're hired by the state police to solve the case, so here we are."  
  
"My mom is so pissed at you guys," she sounded a bit happy at the prospect. "You should have seen her last night! She actually swore-!"  
  
"Melissa!" the voice from earlier shrieked. It was Barbara Trempson- Carstatch herself. The P.I.'s recognized her immediately from the photo in the file. Barely. Her face was redder than Officer Kornmel's, if that was even possible, and her curly blonde hair was frizzy. Her eyes were also bloodshot. "What did I just say about opening the door?!"  
  
"It's Malice, mom," she replied, looking annoyed. "I'm getting a tattoo of it on my ankle on my 18th birthday."  
  
"You will not!" Barbara snapped, and then turned to Jessica and Christi. "Get out of my house! I didn't do it, for God's sake! Just-!"  
  
"We're not in your house," Jessica replied smoothly, as though she were talking to a sensible person and not this madwoman. "We're on your doorstep."  
  
"Get off my property!" she shrieked.  
  
"After I get some questions answered. Of course, I could go. and the police would take you into custody for being suspected of the murder of your father. If you let me in, I could save you that embarrassment."  
  
She considered it, but then eyed them suspiciously. "How do I even know you're police officials? You could be reporters trying to get a good story."  
  
Jessica and Christi pulled out their visas. "We're not officials, we're Private Investigators hired by the state police to solve this case. These are 48-hour P.I. visas, which let us act as officials for 48 hours. You may see them if you like."  
  
After examining both visas, she finally-but reluctantly-let them in. They sat around the kitchen table, except for Malice who was banished to her room by her mother. Only Jessica saw her spying on their conversation. She didn't hesitate to start the questioning.  
  
"Are you Mrs. Barbara Trempson-Carstatch?  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you work at Second Chance Animal Home?" "Yes."  
  
"What do you do there?"  
  
"I'm the co-owner."  
  
"Are you married to a Mr. Charles Carstatch?"  
  
"Yes, but we're getting a divorce."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"He was caught sleeping with another woman," she choked.  
  
"Who's getting the children?"  
  
"Me. He wants nothing to do with them."  
  
"Reminds me of my ex. bastard cheated on me twelve times, and never once with a woman," Christi added.  
  
"What job does your husband have?" Jessica asked again, ignoring the disturbing comment.  
  
"He works in the post office. He's a mail sorter."  
  
"Where were you on the night of your father's murder?"  
  
"I can't tell you that."  
  
"Because you were too busy cutting off your father's limbs?"  
  
"No! What gave you that idea?"  
  
"If you refuse to answer the question, we will have to assume that you murdered him until you present some hardcore evidence or a justifiable alibi proving that assumption wrong." Christi knew immediately that she was lying. partly. Jessica never made any assumptions. It was hard evidence, or get out of my face until you've got some. That, however, was irrelevant. She was trying to make a point to Barbara. And she did.  
  
"I. I was. Oh, it'll ruin my reputation!"  
  
"This information will be strictly guarded by the police force and myself. But we-pardon, I should say, you-need it. Which is worse? A few people knowing a little secret about you that will soon pass their minds? Or the general population of America thinking that you murdered your own father?"  
  
Barbara was dumbstruck by her statement, which wasn't surprising. Jessica tended to have that effect on a lot of people. Her lipped trembled as she looked wildly around the room, as though looking for an escape from her pain.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"I'll tell you!" she burst in tears. "I'll tell you, drat it all."  
  
"And." Jessica's tone was less harsh now. It was an expectant whisper.  
  
"I." she sniffed. "I had to get Nilly put to sleep."  
  
"WHAT?!" Barbara and Christi both jumped. Jessica looked amused. Malice, as had been said before, was eavesdropping on their conversation. She leapt up now in shock and anger. "You put Nilly to sleep?!"  
  
"I had to!" said her mother hysterically. Her insane love of animals was suddenly very clear. "I had to! With Charley gone, we'll be lucky if we can get the bills paid!"  
  
"Nilly!" The love of animals seemed hereditary. "How could you. t-to Nilly?!" "That's all the questions we have for now!" said Jessica, standing up. Christi followed suit. "We may be back tomorrow! Our sincere regrets to Nilly!"  
  
And with that, the two P.I.'s left the animal lovers to themselves.  
  
Jessica chuckled as they got in the car.  
  
"That was pretty funny, actually. Now, off to Roberto's." 


	3. The Chase

Chapter Three  
  
The Chase  
  
  
  
When they arrived at Dr. Salvinay's Veterinary, Jessica parked in the WaWa parking lot two buildings down and across the street. They were early by an hour. They both got coffee and sat in Jessica's car, waiting for the time of action.  
  
"What's the plan?" Christi asked, sipping her cappuccino.  
  
Jessica set down her mocha chino and steepled her fingers. "First we wait for Mr. Conston to enter the building. Then we wait ten minutes before entering. When we enter, we don't flash our visas until we get a chance to talk with him. Preferably in public, so he can't run without arousing suspicion, which he won't want to do. Then we talk to him, getting our answers. At gunpoint, if necessary."  
  
Christi blinked. "Gunpoint?"  
  
Jessica pulled out her handgun, keeping it under the dashboard so no one would see it and panic.  
  
"Is it loaded?" Christi's voice was a whisper now.  
  
"Of course it's loaded. Why would I carry a gun on duty if it wasn't loaded? Anyway, if we're lucky, we won't need this."  
  
"The police weren't lucky with him. He's a greasy one, I heard. Always slipping up the officials. It was in his file."  
  
"True. But we're not officials, now are we? Ah, here's greasy now."  
  
A red sports car pulled into the parking lot of Dr. Salvinay's Veterinary, in one of the reserved spots. A Latino man of 5'4" got out of the front seat, and walked into the building.  
  
"No veterinary assistant can afford a car like that with legitimate money," Jessica insisted.  
  
"I know. lucky jerk." Christi stuck her tongue out at the sports car. "Now what do we do?"  
  
"Now, we wait."  
  
"For.?"  
  
"For ten minutes, as I said before. Let him get into something first so he can't run away as soon as we walk in."  
  
And so they waited. Christi, being impatient as she was, checked her digital wristwatch every five seconds. Time seemed to drag by so slowly that a snail could beat it by a mile in a race. Jessica's eyes were fixed on the building they were waiting to infiltrate. She occasionally flipped open her diamond studded gold pocket watch that had been passed down in her family from Sherlock Holmes's time.  
  
Finally, the ten minutes were over. The two P.I.'s got out of the car and strolled casually to Dr. Salvinay's Veterinary. They walked inside, and went up to the receptionist.  
  
"Good evening!" she said brightly.  
  
"Good evening," Jessica replied smoothly. "We're looking for a Dr. Roberto Conston. Could we speak to him?"  
  
"Oh, he's not a doctor, just an associate. He specializes in canine treatment." Jessica, of course, already knew that Roberto was no doctor.  
  
"I see. Well, may we see him?"  
  
"Of course! Would you like to speak with him in the lounge?"  
  
"Right here is fine, thank you."  
  
She turned on the intercom and spoke into a desk microphone. "Calling Mr. Conston, Mr. Conston. You're needed at the front desk."  
  
The Latino man from earlier, now wearing a white doctors coat, came out in a few minutes from one of the doors labeled "Employees Only". He spotted Jessica and Christi.  
  
"Oh, you must be the couple from yesterday. I'm afraid you'll have to wait another two hours before your dog's out of surgery."  
  
Both P.I.'s raised an eyebrow. They had been called many false things- sisters, officials-but never a couple. Jessica interrupted before he could continue.  
  
"I'm afraid we haven't been here before just now, Mr. Conston. We are P.I.'s, hired by the state police, trying solve the recent serial killing case, and we-"  
  
Jessica and Christi had just pulled out there visas when Roberta bolted to the door, white as a ghost.  
  
"Stop!" Jessica shouted, streaking after him in a heartbeat. "STOP HIM!"  
  
He had gotten into his car and started it by the time the two P.I.'s reached the door. They ran for the car, but it came right at them. The two dived out of the way as the car left the lot and sped down the road.  
  
"C'mon!" Jessica shouted. They ran to her 4-wheel drive and chased after him, their siren ear-splittingly screeching. Christi radioed the station.  
  
"Come in, come in, this is Helmstar and Walt, headed east down Blue Mill Drive, chasing Roberto Conston in a red Chevy with a license plate number E47B81. He is majorly resisting arrest, so I need some back up, pronto!" She slammed the walkie-talkie back on its stand. There was a moment of silence.  
  
"Ten-four, back up's on the way," a voice cackled over the radio.  
  
"Nice people skills," Jessica commented. Christi blushed.  
  
Meanwhile, Jessica swerved in and out of lanes, gaining on Roberto bit by bit. He made a sharp right onto an empty road, and Jessica followed as Christi updated the station.  
  
Roberto had obviously made a mistake in coming onto this empty road. Jessica easily caught up to him, honking her horn loudly.  
  
"STOP, DAMMIT, STOP!" Jessica roared out the window.  
  
Unfortunately for her, he did. Jessica gasped and slammed on the emergency brake. The airbags activated, and the two pounded them down. By the time they were free of the safety device, Roberto was out of sight.  
  
"DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT!" Jessica shouted, and then, from behind them, they heard the sirens of approaching police cars. "Dangit!" Jessica pounded on the dashboard. "Those danged officials are too late! He got away!" 


	4. The Dead Limb Of The Family Tree

Chapter Four The Dead Limb Of The Family Tree  
  
By the next morning, Jessica was convinced that Roberto Conston was their man. His alibis were lame, and he continually resisted questioning. Jessica and Christi, try as they might, couldn't get the officials to fill out a warrant. He simply had no motive, they said. Jessica knew he had one, and devoted all her time to finding out what it was.  
  
The first thing the two P.I.'s did after their run in with Roberto was to cross-examine all the witnesses who had clarified or un-clarified Roberto's alibis. Jessica immediately noticed that all the people who testified to his alibis were the same people, and immediately had them taken into custody.  
  
"There goes your alibis, murderer," Christi heard her mutter darkly. She agreed.  
  
The two of them were presently going through every inch of evidence they had on the case, searching for Roberto's motives, when there was a knock at the door. Christi, knowing that her partner needed silence by the way she was fingering her pocket watch, went to answer it. It was Barbara Trempson- Carstatch, her teenage daughter Malice by her side.  
  
"Hello," greeted Barbara. "We're here to see Jessica Helmstar."  
  
"I'm afraid she's busy at the moment."  
  
"Let them in," Jessica said with a sigh. A bewildered Christi stepped back and did so. Jessica got up and shook Barbara's hand. "Pleasure to see you again. Have a seat."  
  
"You too. I have the papers you wanted." She handed Jessica a packet of papers.  
  
Jessica nodded. "Thank you." Looking over her shoulder, Christi saw that the packet was a list of people who had left or adopted a dog at Second Chance Animal Home for the last three weeks.  
  
Malice was looking at the pictures of the murder victims with interest. "Look! If you look at the guy like this, he looks like a L!"  
  
"Melissa." said her mother looking disgusted.  
  
"It's Malice. And this one looks like an B!"  
  
Jessica looked up. "Like an B?"  
  
Malice went on excitedly. "And grandpa's an E!"  
  
"Oh, stop it, Melissa!" said her mother. "Respect the deceased!"  
  
"Let me see those," said Jessica, coming around the table to look at the pictures. She looked at each one from every angle, and put a note of what letter it resembled in the corner. Some had to be tilted to be recognized as letters, and sometimes all the body parts weren't a part of the letter, but she soon arranged the nine letter-look-alike corpses in alphabetical order.  
  
A B E I K L R S V  
  
"This means something." Jessica muttered. Malice beamed.  
  
"Dude, I am so going to be a bounty hunter," she announced.  
  
"We're P.I.'s-Private Investigators-not bounty hunters," Christi told her.  
  
"Then who's that guy?" Malice pointed to Roberto Conston's picture. "Isn't he a bounty?"  
  
"No, he's the murderer in this case," Jessica announced. Barbara looked shocked.  
  
"Him? He's. the murderer?"  
  
Jessica looked at her curiously. "Yes. Why, do you know him?"  
  
"Yes! He's been leaving his hound at the Animal Home on and off for a few weeks now. But his name isn't Roberto."  
  
Jessica presented her the packet, which had the names of all the people who had put in or taken out a hound from the Animal Home in the last three weeks. "Which one is he?"  
  
Barbara's eyes scanned the list. "Him. Otto R. Conerbson."  
  
Jessica underlined his name. He was listed several times on the list, having either abandoned or adopted a black mastiff-bloodhound mix breed.  
  
"Idiot! He used an anagram! Fool! That's how they're always caught, anagrams!" She threw her head back and laughed; in a way that you just knew someone else was about to be extremely sad.  
  
"It's him. They'll listen to us now. We've got him!" Christi sounded excited.  
  
Jessica's brow furrowed. "No we don't. We still don't have a motive. Or do we."  
  
She went back to the pictures and scrambled them around, but nothing seemed to work. She stared hard at them, and scanned through the files again. She took out her pocket watch, with the initials S. H. ingraved in them. They stood for Sherlock Holmes. The famous detective. Her ancestor. As she looked, something dawned on her. She hurriedly put the pictures in a different order.  
  
"Aha!"  
  
The others gathered around. The letters now read "BASK RVIL E"  
  
"'Bask R-Vil E?' What's that supposed to mean?" asked Christi.  
  
"Baskerville!" she burst ecstatically. "The hound of the Baskervilles! Holmes worked on that case! A distant relative of the Baskervilles used a dog to kill the living Baskervilles so he could inherit the estate! That's what Roberto is up to!"  
  
Christi was bewildered. "The hound? What? What does this have do with anything?"  
  
"It has to do with everything! There was a legend that a huge hound lived on the moor of Dartmoor and that it hunted down the family. The murderer used a huge hound painted with phosphorous to imitate the legend, and used it to kill the Baskervilles. I did some more research and found that Barbara here is the descendant of Sir Henry Baskerville."  
  
Barbara nodded, eyes wide with understanding. "It's true! My grandmother's maiden name was Baskerville, but her father lost most of the family fortune. She was ashamed of her father's foolishness and agreed to have her name changed in marriage."  
  
"Your great grandfather lost it all in a bet to a man by the name Michael Donalu. Your mother was a Baskerville, but your father was a Donalu, so either you or one of your siblings is the heir to the fortune. But, if you were all to die, our little friend Roberto would inherit the fortune, having split off from the family. You see, Donalu married Georgia Conston and had a son, but divorced his wife. She later remarried and kept her maiden name. Roberto is her descendant, and therefore a possible heir through marriage. He's distant, but relative."  
  
There was a silence as everyone pondered this information. Then Christi spoke up.  
  
"Why didn't you present this information to the officials? We could have gotten that warrant!"  
  
"I did show them the information. Though it proves that he has a motive for the crime, it doesn't prove that he committed the crime."  
  
Christi nodded. "But why did he use a fake name when he went to the Animal Home but not when he signed up for his job? Wouldn't it have been easier to do it visa versa? Or to use fake names for both?"  
  
Jessica smiled. "True. But it seems to me that he signed up for the job before he got the idea to try to take the fortune, so it was too late to come up with a fake name for that. He used a fake name in his dealings with the Animal Home because he was at a high risk of losing his murder weapon if the police knew about his connection with his hound. All he has to do is kill off the rest of the family and he can claim the fortune."  
  
There was a shocked silence.  
  
"Who. who will he be after next?" Malice asked nervously.  
  
Jessica pulled some files out of the drawer of the desk. "Well. seeing as the living members of your family are all out of state. I'd say you're his next target, Barbara."  
  
Barbara looked at her with pure terror.  
  
Jessica put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye. "I need you to do me a favor, and to do it blindly. Only if you do this can we stop him. Understand?"  
  
Barbara swallowed, tried to speak, then gave up and nodded. "Good. I need you to take a walk in the park tonight, far from all the crime scenes. Alone."  
  
"What?! But what if-"  
  
"Ah-ah-ah-no questions, Mrs. Trempson-Carstatch. Blind faith is what we need right now. From you."  
  
She swallowed, and put on a face that made her look braver than she really was. "Al-alright. I-I'll do it!"  
  
Jessica nodded. "Then good afternoon to you, Barbara. Arrive at the park at nine o'clock sharp. And bundle up. It's going to be a cold night." 


	5. If The Shoe Fits

Chapter five If The Shoe Fits.  
  
That night, Jessica and Christi hid themselves amongst the underbrush, just to the left of the gates of the park. They were waiting for the arrival of Barbara Trempson-Carstatch. Their plan was to tail her and wait for the arrival of the hound. Jessica had told her to steer clear of the crime scenes because they were being patrolled, and Roberto wouldn't dare to attack his next victim too close to authorities.  
  
At eight thirty, they saw a taxicab drop off a short man wearing a hat, carrying a bundle much too big for him. After the taxicab left, he gratefully set the bundle down and opened it, revealing a huge, black hound that was half bloodhound and half mastiff. It had a thick leather collar attached to a strong looking chain, and it's muzzle was bound so tightly that it couldn't open its mouth even if it was awake. He fumbled with a small box, and removed from it a syringe with which he injected the hound. It began to stir and eventually woke up, letting out a stifled growl. The man swore at the beast for it to follow him as he began to walk. It was Roberto.  
  
Jessica put a hand on Christi's shoulder and clapped her hand over her mouth, and shook her head. She waited for Roberto to disappear around the bend before whispering to her.  
  
"We can't go after him now!" Jessica hissed.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because we still don't have any evidence! We still don't have a warrant for his arrest yet! If we had gone up there just now, we'd never be able to catch him because he would go someplace else! Now stick to the plan!"  
  
Nine o'clock was drawing closer and closer. Finally, Barbara appeared, looking white, cold, and terrified out of her wits. Jessica wished she could have done this some other way, because of what had happened to Sir Henry when he had been used for bait, but this was the only way. They had to follow through. They must make sure not to hesitate, like Holmes had done. There was no turning back now.  
  
They trailed Barbara about two yards behind her. Jessica wished now that they had made Barbara come earlier, so they could be ahead of Roberto, but it was too late now. Suddenly, from around the next bend, the heard Roberto swearing at his hound about something. Barbara froze.  
  
"Hello?" her voice cracked. Silence. Then, much more shakily now, she walked on. And the two P.I.'s followed.  
  
She made it around the next bend, looking cautious and afraid. As she walked on, Jessica pulled out her handgun. Not a moment too soon.  
  
At that moment, an intense growling was heard just behind the P.I.'s on the other side of the path. They all looked. The gigantic hound from earlier was on the path, unleashed and unshackled, stalking towards a horrified Barbara. It was clothed in bright, violent flames, barring its teeth threateningly at Barbara.  
  
She screamed. She screamed so loud that it would have shattered glass. The hound lunged forward towards its victim, but Jessica was on it like flies on flypaper. She and Christi bounded after it, unloading their bullets into its hide. When her clip was empty, Jessica tackled it. This surprised Christi, who was about to take another shot at it, so much, that she accidentally pulled the trigger. Luckily for her partner, her hand also jerked to the right, so the bullet went somewhere into the park.  
  
Jessica struggled with the hound, which was inconveniently healthy, trying to defend herself from it while simultaneously reloading her gun. Christi didn't dare shoot. She almost killed her partner once already.  
  
Finally, Jessica had another clip loaded and shot the dreaded beast in the head, killing it. It dropped dead at her side. Panting, she looked at Christi with wide eyes.  
  
"Find Roberto," she whispered so quietly that she almost missed it. "Now."  
  
Christi did. Figuring that since both of them were on the same side of the path, and that the hound appeared behind them, then the only place Roberto could be would be the left side of the path. So there she looked. It didn't take her long to find him. He was lying on the ground, moaning. He looked like he had been shot in the stomach, judging by the bloodstain on his shirt. She pulled out her gun and pointed it at him. She suddenly realized that her stray bullet must have got him.  
  
"Stay right where you are, Roberto Conston. You are officially under arrest for various murders. The jig is up. The hound is dead."  
  
He coughed up some blood, and Jessica appeared, holding a book in her hand.  
  
"Is Barbara alright?" Christi asked.  
  
"She's fine," Jessica turned to Roberto. She picked up Roberto's left hand and placed it on the book. It was the bible. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"  
  
He coughed up more blood. "What?"  
  
"I asked you a question, murderer. We know that you are responsible for the recent serial killings. We know how you did it. We know who your accomplices are, and they're in custody, soon to be arrested along with your sorry butt. We know you're after the Donalu fortune, and now we've got you. Your hand is on the Bible, so answer me, murderer. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"  
  
More blood. "Uh. yes."  
  
"Do you admit to the murders of Hugo Trempson, Jacques Trempson, Sarah and John Trempson, Camellia Shultz, Kyle and Melissa Gearno, Lemony and Beatrice Saymono?"  
  
"Yes." he coughed up one last ounce of blood, and fell over, dead.  
  
"If the shoe fits." said Jessica darkly. "That solves our problems," she said. Christi wasn't so convinced.  
  
"But evidence! We need-"  
  
Jessica pulled out a micro tape recorder. Then she held it to her mouth.  
  
"Case closed."  
  
*~*  
  
WEEEEEE!!!!! I'm done!!!! Like it?!?!?! R/R!!! THANX!!!!! 


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